The Cellar - View Single Post

Cyclefrance · 04-26-2006, 01:15 AM

.

INTERMISSION

There that should have grabbed your attention.

Intermission, you ask? What's this all about?

Well Mari's getting to crunch time with her move and as my partner in crime in this literary fiasco, so to speak, the story cannot really be allowed to resume until she's safely re-installed in her new home next week. So in the tradition of many an entertainment (I know, that is taking liberties to call it that), we are unilaterally declaring an intermission.

Now, I got to thinking that it wasn't really fair just to leave you hanging for seven days like that, and, let's face it, if you were in a cinema, there would probably be adverts, or trailers or some sort of short film available to plug the gap. Hmmmm....

Now, just by chance, I happen to have a few short contributions of a similar quality (that might not be a good thing, mind you) that I posted on another site some time ago. I've added them up, and, guess what, there's seven of them as well - one a day. So, I thought I might therefore 'plug the gap' by posting one a day here.

The idea also passed through my mind that I should consult you first about this, not just land them in your lap all of a sudden like that - not very British good manners, stiff upper lip, and all that. But then I thought, hey, these are supposed to be friends, so they can bloody well have them whether they like it or not! That sounds fair, doesn't it?

So here goes, go grab yourself an ice cream, cola, or popcorn, or whatever takes your fancy, make yourself comfy, and, in no particular order, we'll start with:

The Last Order of the Lukewarm Brues

(hey, I'm beginning to like all this colour/color-fonty thingy - Flint may have something here after all...!)

You may not know this, but there was a little known monastic sect just off the Wandsworth Road where the River Wandle willingly weaves its otherwise weary way westwards before it meets its old father, Thames. They were by that bit of it that lies just past the Earlsfield Business Park behind the Autocue Company's headquarters. I'll give you a moment to locate it on your map. Gottit? No? Well, not to worry, I think we can progress even without your having this detail, come to think of it. It's not that essential to the topic under discussion - a 'nice to have' clearly, but not a showstopper, so I will continue.

What? Oh, you think you've found it after all. I can continue then.... Sorry? No, no not that side of the road, the OTHER side. You can’t find it, after all? Look, don't worry about it, I told you, it's not that important. What now? Yes, I know I seemed to put a great deal of emphasis upon the location at the beginning, but I was trying to set the scene and grab your attention. Honestly, it really, really, really doesn't matter that much. So let's just leave it, shall we? Agreed? Good. Now, where was I?

Ah, yes, the sect. Well, like many such sects (or to give them their correct name, orders), they were a silent one. Go back a few hundred years or more and there were plenty of them dotted up and down the reaches of the Thames. There were the Whitefriars located in Fleet Street, the Blackfriars a little further downstream, and Greyfriars and Greenfriers and so on.

The Wandsworth order were going to call themselves the Bluefriars but there was already a Bluefriar order, so in order (I know all these ‘orders’ are a but messy, but I’ve written them now) to save on time and ink (no doubt you have seen how they elaborately decorate their writings) they decided to go for Bruefriars – which meant only having to change one letter. Clever, eh?

They had some nasty habits the Bruefriars. No, no, no, not the sort of nasty habit like playing with your private parts in public. I mean their hooded cloaks – known otherwise as ‘habits’. They were of such a rough heavy material. Not attractive to look at, at all, but certainly warm – well, not overly warm that you would be perspiring violently inside (thank goodness – nothing worse than a smelly friar), but warm enough to keep the chill out. In fact it was because of their habits that they became known for their kindness when it was their turn to hold the bi-monthly monks get-together. They would arrange for every visitor to be given a Bruefriar habit. You might think that these events as a result would gain an excellent reputation, and they did, but not so much as excellent you might have thought, and this was probably because of the name they acquired. Unfortunately they became known as the Bruefriar lukewarm receptions.

Anyway, enough of all that. They aren’t around any more. Sad I know, but that’s the way it goes – sooner or later most things get out of Order - and so did Wandsworth. But there is the public drinking house, or pub, that occupies the site that once was their domain. Their memory lives on in this fine establishment. It’s a very popular pub too, known as the Pheasant Pluckers Pinus (the sign outside depicts a young lad dressed in peasant’s clothes at rest under a pine tree, cleaning his plucking tool), and is said to have been frequented by the famous Reverend William Archibald Spooner in his time. In the last five years it has twice won the Wandsworth Gazette UK pub-of-the-year contest – in fact it was the original winner of a similar contest held back in 1806.

Back in those days there was no such thing as a refrigerator, and the pubs weren’t air-conditioned, or carpeted or anything like that. Beer was served not in glasses but in metal tankards and pottery mugs (hey, this is sounding quite factual and believable all of a sudden!), baths were taken infrequently by the clientele, so there was always a distinct hum around the place, and a every pub could be considered to have an atmosphere of its own making.

As for our little pub, well, that was special in its own way, because it also stood on the site of the Bruefriars, the last Order of monks to dwell on or close to the River Thames. But even they were ousted as commerce took over (even in those days) and the old wooden dwellings that nestled by the riverside made way for the likes of cobblers, bakers, grocers and all manner of businesses (but understandably – or not – there were no estate agents, Pret-a-mangers or Macdonalds). The Pheasant Pluckers Pinus first opened in 1798, the Bruefriars having moved out in 1795. They’d left a lot of stuff behind though and the then landlord immediately saw an opportunity here to create a theme to his establishment.

So habits and rosaries, sandals and the like were nailed to walls or put on shelves or just left generally lying about. Having no fridge (as I mentioned before) and no supply of ice either, drinks used to be warm, but this did not worry our landlord. No he was a positive thinking man and immediately saw another marketing opportunity. Rather than try to cool the beer down, as many establishments were attempting to do at that time, he actually kept it as warm as he could. Why? Well think about it. What do pubs do at the end of the day in fine old England? Don’t know? They call last orders (well they to used then - since then we've introduced 24 hour opening laws!)!

So you see the landlord created this new tradition. Each night at about ten to eleven (that’s ten minutes before closing time), he would don a Bruefriars habit and stand on the bar with glass raised and shout to the gathered throng: ‘Time! Gentleman! Please! Last orders for your lukewarm brews, if you please! I wish to propose a toast!’ Whereupon, all those present would recharge their glasses with warm wholesome English beer. That done, the landlord would call again: ‘Gentlemen! My toast! Raise your glasses to the Last Order of the Lukewarm Brues! The crowd loved it! An opportunity to have another drink, and the landlord loved the sound of his cash register ringing up sales as well! What a merry time was had by all.

The pub went on to become very famous indeed for its monasterial connections and its warm beers, so much so that other pubs around London moved from trying to create cold beers and developed their own reasons for serving warm beer instead. And this tradition for warm beer not only spread nationwide, it still lasts until this very day. I can guarantee you this is true. Go into any pub in England, ask for a beer and without any doubt whatsoever you will find that it will always be nice and warm!

So never again wonder why the English drink warm beer – you now know the truth. Well, you do believe me, don’t you…..?

+++

Another one tomorrow.

04-26-2006, 01:15 AM	#15
Cyclefrance Pump my ride! Join Date: Aug 2005 Location: Deep countryside of Surrey , England Posts: 1,890	. INTERMISSION There that should have grabbed your attention. Intermission, you ask? What's this all about? Well Mari's getting to crunch time with her move and as my partner in crime in this literary fiasco, so to speak, the story cannot really be allowed to resume until she's safely re-installed in her new home next week. So in the tradition of many an entertainment (I know, that is taking liberties to call it that), we are unilaterally declaring an intermission. Now, I got to thinking that it wasn't really fair just to leave you hanging for seven days like that, and, let's face it, if you were in a cinema, there would probably be adverts, or trailers or some sort of short film available to plug the gap. Hmmmm.... Now, just by chance, I happen to have a few short contributions of a similar quality (that might not be a good thing, mind you) that I posted on another site some time ago. I've added them up, and, guess what, there's seven of them as well - one a day. So, I thought I might therefore 'plug the gap' by posting one a day here. The idea also passed through my mind that I should consult you first about this, not just land them in your lap all of a sudden like that - not very British good manners, stiff upper lip, and all that. But then I thought, hey, these are supposed to be friends, so they can bloody well have them whether they like it or not! That sounds fair, doesn't it? So here goes, go grab yourself an ice cream, cola, or popcorn, or whatever takes your fancy, make yourself comfy, and, in no particular order, we'll start with: The Last Order of the Lukewarm Brues (hey, I'm beginning to like all this colour/color-fonty thingy - Flint may have something here after all...!) You may not know this, but there was a little known monastic sect just off the Wandsworth Road where the River Wandle willingly weaves its otherwise weary way westwards before it meets its old father, Thames. They were by that bit of it that lies just past the Earlsfield Business Park behind the Autocue Company's headquarters. I'll give you a moment to locate it on your map. Gottit? No? Well, not to worry, I think we can progress even without your having this detail, come to think of it. It's not that essential to the topic under discussion - a 'nice to have' clearly, but not a showstopper, so I will continue. What? Oh, you think you've found it after all. I can continue then.... Sorry? No, no not that side of the road, the OTHER side. You can’t find it, after all? Look, don't worry about it, I told you, it's not that important. What now? Yes, I know I seemed to put a great deal of emphasis upon the location at the beginning, but I was trying to set the scene and grab your attention. Honestly, it really, really, really doesn't matter that much. So let's just leave it, shall we? Agreed? Good. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, the sect. Well, like many such sects (or to give them their correct name, orders), they were a silent one. Go back a few hundred years or more and there were plenty of them dotted up and down the reaches of the Thames. There were the Whitefriars located in Fleet Street, the Blackfriars a little further downstream, and Greyfriars and Greenfriers and so on. The Wandsworth order were going to call themselves the Bluefriars but there was already a Bluefriar order, so in order (I know all these ‘orders’ are a but messy, but I’ve written them now) to save on time and ink (no doubt you have seen how they elaborately decorate their writings) they decided to go for Bruefriars – which meant only having to change one letter. Clever, eh? They had some nasty habits the Bruefriars. No, no, no, not the sort of nasty habit like playing with your private parts in public. I mean their hooded cloaks – known otherwise as ‘habits’. They were of such a rough heavy material. Not attractive to look at, at all, but certainly warm – well, not overly warm that you would be perspiring violently inside (thank goodness – nothing worse than a smelly friar), but warm enough to keep the chill out. In fact it was because of their habits that they became known for their kindness when it was their turn to hold the bi-monthly monks get-together. They would arrange for every visitor to be given a Bruefriar habit. You might think that these events as a result would gain an excellent reputation, and they did, but not so much as excellent you might have thought, and this was probably because of the name they acquired. Unfortunately they became known as the Bruefriar lukewarm receptions. Anyway, enough of all that. They aren’t around any more. Sad I know, but that’s the way it goes – sooner or later most things get out of Order - and so did Wandsworth. But there is the public drinking house, or pub, that occupies the site that once was their domain. Their memory lives on in this fine establishment. It’s a very popular pub too, known as the Pheasant Pluckers Pinus (the sign outside depicts a young lad dressed in peasant’s clothes at rest under a pine tree, cleaning his plucking tool), and is said to have been frequented by the famous Reverend William Archibald Spooner in his time. In the last five years it has twice won the Wandsworth Gazette UK pub-of-the-year contest – in fact it was the original winner of a similar contest held back in 1806. Back in those days there was no such thing as a refrigerator, and the pubs weren’t air-conditioned, or carpeted or anything like that. Beer was served not in glasses but in metal tankards and pottery mugs (hey, this is sounding quite factual and believable all of a sudden!), baths were taken infrequently by the clientele, so there was always a distinct hum around the place, and a every pub could be considered to have an atmosphere of its own making. As for our little pub, well, that was special in its own way, because it also stood on the site of the Bruefriars, the last Order of monks to dwell on or close to the River Thames. But even they were ousted as commerce took over (even in those days) and the old wooden dwellings that nestled by the riverside made way for the likes of cobblers, bakers, grocers and all manner of businesses (but understandably – or not – there were no estate agents, Pret-a-mangers or Macdonalds). The Pheasant Pluckers Pinus first opened in 1798, the Bruefriars having moved out in 1795. They’d left a lot of stuff behind though and the then landlord immediately saw an opportunity here to create a theme to his establishment. So habits and rosaries, sandals and the like were nailed to walls or put on shelves or just left generally lying about. Having no fridge (as I mentioned before) and no supply of ice either, drinks used to be warm, but this did not worry our landlord. No he was a positive thinking man and immediately saw another marketing opportunity. Rather than try to cool the beer down, as many establishments were attempting to do at that time, he actually kept it as warm as he could. Why? Well think about it. What do pubs do at the end of the day in fine old England? Don’t know? They call last orders (well they to used then - since then we've introduced 24 hour opening laws!)! So you see the landlord created this new tradition. Each night at about ten to eleven (that’s ten minutes before closing time), he would don a Bruefriars habit and stand on the bar with glass raised and shout to the gathered throng: ‘Time! Gentleman! Please! Last orders for your lukewarm brews, if you please! I wish to propose a toast!’ Whereupon, all those present would recharge their glasses with warm wholesome English beer. That done, the landlord would call again: ‘Gentlemen! My toast! Raise your glasses to the Last Order of the Lukewarm Brues! The crowd loved it! An opportunity to have another drink, and the landlord loved the sound of his cash register ringing up sales as well! What a merry time was had by all. The pub went on to become very famous indeed for its monasterial connections and its warm beers, so much so that other pubs around London moved from trying to create cold beers and developed their own reasons for serving warm beer instead. And this tradition for warm beer not only spread nationwide, it still lasts until this very day. I can guarantee you this is true. Go into any pub in England, ask for a beer and without any doubt whatsoever you will find that it will always be nice and warm! So never again wonder why the English drink warm beer – you now know the truth. Well, you do believe me, don’t you…..? +++ Another one tomorrow. __________________ Always sufficient hills - never sufficient gears Last edited by Cyclefrance; 04-26-2006 at 03:19 AM.